


what love we can afford

by asideofourown



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:13:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21553675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asideofourown/pseuds/asideofourown
Summary: Aziraphale clucked disapprovingly.  “Feet off the furniture,” he said without any expectation that Crowley would listen to him, and then dug through the bag.  “Oh!  Yes, I do like these, thank you!  This is perfect, you always know what I like.”  He glanced up at Crowley with a gentle smile, and then his focus shifted to Crowley’s shoes.  “Ah, dear.”Crowley raised an eyebrow.  “Hm?”Aziraphale covered his mouth, and looked very much like he was trying not to laugh.  “Dearheart,” he said in a thick voice.  “Crowley, my love, you have coins glued on your shoes.”“What?” Crowley yelped, scrambling to get his feet off the table and look at his shoes.  He pulled the left one off, eyes widening when he saw the six or seven coins stuck to the bottom.  “What in the...?”Aziraphale reached out and gently took it from him, poking at one of the coins.  “I do believe it’s glued on,” he said with barely concealed glee.  “Crowley, weren’t you putting glue on coins earlier?”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 293





	what love we can afford

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys i wrote this in about an hour but when the muse speaks she speaks so
> 
> Enjoy!

Crowley leaned over the table in the back room of Aziraphale’s bookshop, utterly focused. In front of him he had rows and rows of coins, and was painstakingly dotting glue into the center of each of them, humming absently under his breath as he worked. 

“My dear?” Aziraphale said from the doorway of the kitchenette, and Crowley jumped. Aziraphale smiled a little sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Crowley shrugged loosely and picked at his sleeve, which he had accidentally dipped in glue. “’S’kay. What’s up, angel?”

“Would you mind terribly going to the store for me?” Aziraphale asked. “I was just going to put the kettle on and have a nice little afternoon snack, but we’re out of sugar.” 

Crowley glanced over his shoulder and out the window, where it had been drizzling all day. He hesitated. It was nice and warm at the bookshop, and it was cold and wet outside. Which was probably why _Aziraphale_ didn’t want to leave to go to the store.

Aziraphale sidled over, and Crowley could tell immediately what he was up to. Aziraphale had done plenty of temptations over the years, as per the Arrangement, but Crowley hadn’t ever built up any kind of tolerance. He was smitten, after all, and a bit wrapped around Aziraphale’s pinky. It would have been rather embarrassing, if Aziraphale wasn’t just as in love. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” Aziraphale said in a low voice, coming up behind Crowley and wrapping both arms around his shoulders, kissing his temple. “Tonight. I promise.”

Crowley considered that carefully, _quite_ tempted. “I find that a little hard to believe,” he finally replied. He knew their plans after all, for the evening, and they were already rather pleasant. Then again— Aziraphale, tempting...

“Even if I sweeten the deal?” Aziraphale murmured. He brushed a lock of Crowley’s hair behind his ear before tipping his chin up so they could kiss properly. “Name your terms, dearest.”

Crowley grinned slyly up at him. “You can’t complain,” he said. “I want to watch the entirety of that Shakespeare movie we got and you can’t complain about how historically inaccurate it is. And the blanket we snuggle under can’t be tartan. Also, I’d like Chinese for dinner.”

Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully. “Can the blanket be flannel?” he asked, and Crowley nodded. 

“That’s acceptable,” he said, warming a little at the affection on Aziraphale’s delighted face.

Aziraphale smiled brightly, gave him a happy kiss. “Thank you, Crowley,” he said. “Would you get some jam as well, since you’re going out?” 

Crowley sighed long-sufferingly, but it was undercut by his reluctant, fond grin. “Yeah, OK. Did you have a snack in mind, or do you want me to find something?”

Aziraphale peppered kisses across his face, effusive now that he was going to get what he had angled for. “I’ll leave that up to you, my dearest love.”

Crowley pulled him for one last kiss, snapping his fingers as he did so. All his prepared coins vanished from the table, finding themselves on the pavement all around the area. It wasn’t as fun as putting them down himself, but Crowley made sure there were a few along the path to the grocery store, so maybe he could reap the amusement of his demonic prank anyway. 

When they parted, Aziraphale’s cheeks were pink, and Crowley was sure his were much the same. He got up, grabbing his sunglasses from the desk and sliding them on. “Be back in a bit, angel,” he said, sauntering out the door and grabbing his jacket on the way.

“My dear, you have a coin pasted to your sleeve,” Aziraphale replied as Crowley stole his umbrella from the stand by the door.

Crowley glanced down at his sleeve to find a two pence coin stuck there. “Maybe I’ll start a new trend,” he said with a smirk and a careless shrug, and then left the bookshop with a wave.

It was miserable and rainy and wet and cold and horrible out, and Crowley regretted his decisions. Not all of them, mind, _especially_ not the ones relating to loving Aziraphale enough to go out in the chilly rain for him, but the rest of it. Crowley hurried down the sidewalk, distracted with struggling to get the umbrella to open. 

Which was why he didn’t notice when he stepped on one of his own coins, and the coin stuck to the bottom of his shoe. He didn’t notice the next one, either, or the next, or the next...

By the time Crowley got back to Aziraphale’s bookshop the rain was letting up a little, but his hair was still more damp than he would have liked. He dried it off with a quick miracle as he stepped inside, calling, “Hey, angel, I hope the tea’s almost ready!”

Aziraphale appeared from the back and beamed at him. “It is, I’ve kept the kettle warm for you,” he said, and then focused in on the bag in Crowley’s hand. “Thank you ever so much, darling.” 

Crowley gave him a quick kiss on the way past, his shoes clicking on the wooden floorboards of the bookshop, and set the bag down on the table in the back before collapsing on the couch. “Got sugar, jam, and some of those scones you like,” he said with an airy wave of his hand, taking his glasses off and propping his feet up. 

Aziraphale clucked disapprovingly. “Feet off the furniture,” he said without any expectation that Crowley would listen to him, and then dug through the bag. “Oh! Yes, I do like these, thank you! This is perfect, you always know what I like.” He glanced up at Crowley with a gentle smile, and then his focus shifted to Crowley’s shoes. “Ah, dear.”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Aziraphale covered his mouth, and looked very much like he was trying not to laugh. “Dearheart,” he said in a thick voice. “Crowley, my love, you have coins glued on your shoes.”

“What?” Crowley yelped, scrambling to get his feet off the table and look at his shoes. He pulled the left one off, eyes widening when he saw the six or seven coins stuck to the bottom. “What in the...?”

Aziraphale reached out and gently took it from him, poking at one of the coins. “I do believe it’s glued on,” he said with barely concealed glee. “Crowley, weren’t _you_ putting glue on coins earlier?”

Crowley groaned dramatically flopping back on the couch and throwing an arm over his face. “For _Somebody’s_ sake.”

Aziraphale was still laughing at him, but he seemed like he was trying to muffle it. “You can just miracle them off,” he suggested.

Crowley squinted at him. “Glue’s miracled to stick for a week, don’t think it’d work,” he replied morosely. 

That got Aziraphale going again, laughing as he set Crowley’s shoe down on the table. “Oh, my darling,” he said, standing up and rounding the table to come sit next to Crowley on the couch. Crowley sulked in his general direction until his head was in Aziraphale’s lap and Aziraphale’s fingers were running through his hair. 

“I liked those shoes,” Crowley grumbled, more annoyed about playing himself than about the actual shoes.

Aziraphale leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead. “What good are my powers, but to thwart the wiles of evil,” he murmured, and then snapped his fingers. The coins glued to Crowley’s shoes clattered to the floor, a few rolling under a bookshelf.

“Thanks, angel,” Crowley muttered with a slightly embarrassed grin. 

Aziraphale grinned back, kissing Crowley on the tip of the nose. “I guess next time you should just _pay_ better attention,” he said, and Crowley groaned. 

“Why do I love you?” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “You, and your awful puns.”

“But you dooo,” Aziraphale said, sing-song. 

Crowley smiled. “I dooo love you.” He pulled Aziraphale down into a kiss, enjoying the feeling of Aziraphale smiling against his lips. “And that’s _priceless_ ,” he added, grinning. 

Aziraphale laughed. “I love you too, dearheart,” he said. “Even when you glue coins to yourself.” With his miracle, the coin on Crowley’s sleeve fell off and rolled under the couch. 

Neither Crowley or Aziraphale noticed. They were too busy kissing, enjoying the love they could finally afford to share.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as fluff and ended with bad puns, and it was inspired by me seeing a weird tumblr ad about gluing money to shoes so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Thank you ever so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! I'm [here](https://asideofourown.tumblr.com/) if that's something you're into.


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